


Kingslayer

by coolchulainn



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, emotionally constipated royals, lord/retainer ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 03:53:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12268329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolchulainn/pseuds/coolchulainn
Summary: The Grandcypher briefly returns to Irestill, and the First Prince and First Knight return to their usual spot in the castle gardens for tea and the spilling of deep secrets and heartfelt feelings





	Kingslayer

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after Seruel's 5* fate episodes. Read the first one [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-9iTC6fUBsc) and the second one [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X8Ody2lJnxM). They're good. I love the Irestill crew. I owe Cygames my god damn life.

At Heles' request, the Grandcypher has briefly returned to Irestill once more. Although her intentions in joining the crew were to let the fledgling government learn to stand on its own feet, it seems she couldn't help but worry, and now that over a year had passed she had figured it would not be improper to return to assess how it was doing. Seruel, in turn, couldn't help but wonder whether it was due to her sense of responsibility as the former princess, or simply her natural disposition as an older sister who worries about others. She should be in the middle of a meeting with the parliament at the moment, one that she has assured Seruel many times he did not have to attend himself. Scathacha meanwhile is using the opportunity to chat up with the townsfolk, leaving Seruel and Naoise to find some way to spend their time by themselves.

The garden of the Great Court is still as beautiful as it was when its name was the royal castle. The damages it sustained during the monster crisis are still possible to make out even here if one were to look for them – markings on old trees, dents in the earth, patches where the grass has yet to grow as thick as it was before. Yet, despite everything, every single flower, bush, and tree is blooming with all its might, as if to make up for lost time. The gates are open at this time of day to welcome visitors, many of whom took up the invitation to enjoy what was in every sense a beautiful day.

Two ornate metal garden chairs and a small matching table are propped up in a part of the garden that sees few visitors. This spot, shaded by the branches of imported fruit trees, has always been one of Seruel's favourite refuges. The trunks of trees from foreign lands have not a single care for the crown prince of a land that is not their own. Naoise made tea, as he always does. He still claims Heles makes better tea whenever Seruel complements his brew. _Perhaps so_ , Seruel thinks, _but I find your tea to be more enjoyable all the same_.

“How long has it been since we last drank tea here?” Naoise remarks. The two of them had exchanged their usual getup for something more simplistic for the occasion upon realizing that they actually rarely left the Grandcypher without armour, regardless of the situation calling for it. Seeing Naoise in a simple black shirt to match Seruel's white as opposed to the usual adorned breastplate, even if it is not a sight completely unknown to Seruel, proved to be nearly as enjoyable as the tea.

“Far too long, in any case.” Seruel raises his cup to his face and gently blows on it. “How very nostalgic.”

“I was surprised to see this part of the garden had remained intact. I had presumed it would be in more significant disarray.”

“That is because you always assume the worst, Naoise. You would do well not to underestimate Irestill's resilience.” Seruel jabs.

“Both of us would do well not to underestimate the role the Captain played either” Naoise counters with a light smile gracing his lips.

“Indeed. We are fortunate to have come across such a peculiar band of skyfarers.”

“Peculiar is certainly one way to describe them.”

“Oh? Would you prefer I call them courageous, or perhaps reckless? Far too kind, with an overwhelming desire to help suspicious strangers such as you and I were at the time regardless of the danger involved?”

“We certainly know all about the fine line between courage and recklessness, do we not? That must be why they were so eager to let us join.” Naoise raises his cup to underline his statement.

“Ha! Yet our combined recklessness is what defeated Skadi and saved the island in the end, so I hereby grant us both permission to remain reckless in moderation. We shall leave the lecturing to my dearest sister, assuming she still has the energy to spare after her meeting.”

“As you wish, your Highness.” Seruel cannot tell the extent to which those words were spoken in jest. The wind blows a single blossom petal into Naoise's tea but he does not seem to notice, for his eyes are resting on the rosebushes further ahead, each of which had a significantly more imposing height before they were crushed by rubble a year ago. “Still, it is horrifying to think what essentially amounts to naught but pent-up feelings was capable of causing such destruction.”

Seruel tightens his grip on his teacup. A small cloud briefly dips the garden in its shade, then clears up just as quickly.

“Naoise. Do you think there are things in this world that cannot be forgiven?”

Naoise turns to face him and blinks a few times. Seruel smiles wryly.

“No, forgive me for asking. I know you well enough to know the answer to that.”

They both take a sip. The brew is a flowery one, no doubt selected to match the garden's atmosphere with the same care and consideration Naoise seemed to put into everything he did.

“Indeed, there are some acts that I believe to be unforgivable. I cannot forgive bringing harm to Irestill or its royal family. I also cannot forgive taking one's life for granted.”

“Naoise-”

Naoise removes the petal from his tea, an act which ought not take nearly as much time and focus as he grants it.

“However, the people that committed these acts can be forgiven. I do not know if I can believe as such myself, but that is what I am told.”

“You didn't do anything wrong, Naoise.”

“I most definitely did. I have made more mistakes than anyone can count. It seems to be an unfortunate part of being alive.”

Naoise empties his cup and begins to pour another, again choosing to direct his eyes very intently at the task at hand.

“If someone committed high treason, you would forgive them?”

“Heles, Scathacha, and you have already thoroughly reprimanded me over my answer to that, have you not?”

“Then. Let's presume someone you know had killed another you know. Could you forgive them?”

The teapot hovers above the table, having lost Naoise's attention. Seruel stares at the ripples in the ever so slightly trembling cup between his hands.

“If... If a child turned on its parent and in the heat of the moment took the parent's life, can he ever be forgiven?”

Naoise slowly lowers the teapot, picks up his filled cup, and directs his gaze back into the garden.

“...I apologise. Please forget I asked-”

“I am... the man who caused the fall of Irestill. The Knight of Ruin.”

Seruel opens his mouth to object, albeit too late to prevent Naoise from speaking once more.

“However, I love Irestill. I love the light of the sunrise over the mountains. I love the smell the wind carries from the hills after a night of rain. I love the hum of the cities bustling with liveliness. I love the messy food being sold at the corners of streets. I love the people that cheered for my return when I did not deserve it. I love the true dragon that protects the land, and the princess that worked to restore it after I made it fall to ruin, and the prince that came searching for me after I sought to flee. And yet, none of those are the reason I became a knight of Irestill. No, although I am a knight, although I love Irestill, I fear I must admit that I have falsely worn the title 'Knight of Irestill' all these years.”

“Naoise...”

“Do you remember that winter night some twenty-odd years ago? Heles had convinced us to sneak out of the castle, and the king eventually came to collect you.”

The memory flashes before Seruel's eyes. The lights of the windows reflecting off the snow, living rooms for common lives the king's children had no part in. The king looming over them, then against all expectations simply taking Heles' hand and placing Seruel on his back. Looking behind him, clearer than everything else, the sight of Naoise, smaller than all three of them at the time, running after them to keep up with Connor's long strides.

“His Majesty the King had left the castle against all regulations for you, but not me. Despite knowing this, I followed. My only thought was that I simply did not want to be left behind. You were my dearest friends, but regardless of my mother serving in the castle I was not permitted in the life of the royal family as a mere citizen. I truly love Irestill with all my heart, yet it is not for Irestill's sake that I became a knight.”

Naoise blows on his tea and takes a careful sip.

“Please pardon me for my impudence in what I am about to say, but... I love the First Prince of Irestill before I love Irestill itself. Even more than I love the First Prince, I love Seruel. It is not at all a secret that constitutes an equal exchange for your own, and I apologise. However... I beg you to understand that if the First Prince of Irestill agrees to having the Knight of Ruin in his service, then the First Knight of Irestill will gladly continue to serve the Kingslayer.”

Silence descends on the table in the back of the garden of the Great Court. Bugs hum as they attempt to find the time to visit every flower in sight. A warm breeze rustles the leaves overhead and sprinkles a handful of petals onto Naoise's golden hair. Basking in the glow of a loving sun, one could almost mistake him for something more than human. Seruel takes a deep breath.

“Could you pour me some more tea?”

“Certainly.”

“Thank you.” The words are strained through tears struggling and failing to stay put. “Thank you...”

Naoise reaches over with the teapot and refills the two-thirds empty cup. Before he can restore the distance between them Seruel stands up and leans across the table, places a hand on Naoise's face, presses their lips together. Naoise freezes for the full three seconds it takes, then slowly lowers the pot onto the table. He decidedly does not pull away, however.

“Th... I.... For the... The crown prince, to-”

Impulsive. Reckless. Unbecoming of the prince of a nation. A decision made in the heat of the moment, without realizing the consequences it would have until it was too late. This time, however, it smelled like tea and flowers instead of blood.

“I'm glad you're here with me, Naoise.”

“A... A knight can't.... With the crown prince... I...”

“Naoise.” Such dignity in his voice without even having wiped his tears. Naoise instantly straightens his back upon hearing it. “I am no longer the crown prince.”

“That is-”

“Right now I am Seruel. Not Prince Seruel, but simply Seruel. And I,” A childlike grin that Naoise can't remember seeing in over a decade, that Seruel can't remember feeling in just as long, stretching his face in unfamiliar but certainly not unpleasant ways. “I love Naoise. Even more than I love my knight, I love Naoise. I'm glad. I am truly, genuinely grateful from the depths of my heart that you chased after us that day.”

Naoise hesitates a moment, processing the statement, then gently takes Seruel's hand off his own cheek and places a soft kiss on the knuckles.

“So am I.”


End file.
